Slowly, during those moments of painful silence that followed, my anger and bitterness somewhat abated, and, even against my better judgment, feelings of pity swayed my mind. It seemed to me, as I reflected upon the past, that Dudley Ogle had been unfortunate in his early surroundings and education; his character had received a wrong bias from the very beginning, and the possession of wealth had increased it. And yet, in spite of all that, there had been something pleasant and good in him. No man is altogether hideous when truly known, and I had not yet accurately ascertained the character of his mysterious relations with my well-beloved. I had, during this interview, caught glimpses of the real, true woman beneath the veil of falsehood and evasion of the truth; I had seen a wistful look occasionally in Ella’s eyes, as though she were haunted constantly by some terrible dread.
Yea, I pitied her. Perhaps, if I waited, the time would come when her nature would recover from the blight that had fallen upon it; when the alien element that had grafted itself upon her true life would be expelled by those avenging powers that vex and plague the erring soul, not in mockery, but to save it from the death that cannot die.
The strangeness of her manner, and the tragic apprehension of her words would, I knew, never fade from my memory; yet half inclined to believe I had misjudged her, I at length, although feeling that the world could never again be quite the same for me, drew her slight form towards me, and imprinting a long, passionate kiss upon her ready lips, said,—
“I will try and think of you as a woman who has been wronged, Ella. I will wait until you can explain, but remember that until you relate to me truthfully the whole of the facts there can be no love between us.”
“No love!” she wailed in a voice of poignant grief. “Is your love for me so utterly dead, then, that you should say this?”
“No,” I answered, caressing her, stroking her wealth of gold-brown hair fondly as of old. “I love you still, Ella; yet, speaking candidly, I cannot trust you further until you explain the truth.”
“But you will be patient, will you not?” she urged. “Remember that I have before me a task so difficult that it may require all my woman’s tact and cunning to accomplish it. But I will—I must succeed; failure will mean that I lose you, my best beloved. Therefore wait, and ere long I will convince you that I have not lied.”
“Yes, I will wait,” I said, kissing her once again. “Until you have cleared yourself, however, remember that I cannot love you as I have done.”
“Very well,” she answered, her tear-stained face brightening. “If such is your decision, I am content. Before long I will explain all the facts, and then, I feel confident, you, noblest and dearest, will love me even better than before.”
“I trust I shall,” I answered with heartfelt earnestness, taking her small hand and pressing it softly; “for I love you, Ella.”